


Progressions (Growing and Changing Remix)

by IreneADonovan



Series: Remixes 2017 [4]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Bad Sex, Canon Disabled Character, Charles in a Wheelchair, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 10:26:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11438934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneADonovan/pseuds/IreneADonovan
Summary: The first time Hank and Charles have sex, it isn't good. The second time is better. Practice makes perfect...





	Progressions (Growing and Changing Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [still_lycoris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Growing and Changing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9225191) by [still_lycoris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris). 
  * In response to a prompt by [still_lycoris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris) in the [xmen_remix_madness2017](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmen_remix_madness2017) collection. 



Their first time together hadn't been good. It hadn't been terrible either. And it definitely hadn't been satisfying.

Most of that had been his fault, Charles knew. He'd been drunk and needy and horny, and no one had been there but Hank. Hank, who would deny Charles nothing that was within his power to grant, whether it was a good idea or not.

Hank had helped Charles build the school. (Good.) He had stayed on after it closed. (Mostly good, at least for Charles.) He had even stayed on after Charles started submerging himself in scotch. (Not so good, for either of them.) He had, in an attempt to give Charles back a little of what he had lost, created the serum that had bridged the severed nerves in Charles' spine. (Good intent, unforseen repercussions.) Had allowed Charles to misuse that serum to silence the voices echoing in his head, to shut out the world that had hurt him at every turn. (Bad, though again he had meant well.)

That first time had been while he was still on the serum, and it could have been good if Charles had been in any shape to give a damn. Instead, he'd just rutted drunkenly against Hank, grinding their crotches together, kissing him sloppily, fondling him with no finesse, just raw need.

And Hank, bless him, had not turned away. Even then Charles had suspected the younger man was at least half in love with him. But Charles hadn't been capable then of a normal relationship -- hell, any relationship -- and neither of them had spoken of it again.

The second time, a few months after he'd quit the serum, had been awkward as hell. Charles had been clear-headed and sober, true, but that hadn't helped much.

He'd approached Hank one night after dinner and asked simply, “Would you give me another chance?”

Hank had studied him for long minutes, those wide blue eyes full of both tenderness and wariness, before he nodded slowly.

Hank had returned with him to his bedroom, had waited shyly until Charles told him to strip, at which point he'd blushed red as a beet.

That was when Charles realized Hank had no experience with men beyond that one frantic groping. At which point he turned nearly as vivid a shade as Hank. “Are you sure you're all right with this?”

Hank nodded, emphatic as he was nervous. “I'd do anything for you, Charles,” he declared softly.

“Even this?”

“Even this.”

“Then kiss me.”

Hank bent and pressed a chaste kiss to Charles' lips. The angle was awkward, and Charles couldn't suppress a little noise of frustration.

Hank pulled away, apologizing.

“It's not your fault. The angle just feels wrong.”

“Because of the chair?”

“Yeah.” Charles stared down at his useless legs. “Every time I think I've gotten used to it all over again, some new little wrinkle pops up.”

“Would it be better on the bed?”

“Probably.” Charles began to unbutton his shirt.

Hank stood awkwardly for a moment then began shedding his own clothes. Hank really was good-looking, tall with a runner's build, all lean muscle and fair skin. His cock was lovely, uncut, pulsing with blood, already semi-erect.

Charles pulled his shirt off, then his shoes, then he transferred himself onto the bed and dragged his legs into position on the mattress. “Come here,” he said, patting the space beside him, knowing he needed to take the lead.

Hank climbed up on the bed, got close to Charles, not quite touching. He was propped on one elbow, giving Charles a good view of that nearly hairless chest and those deceptively slender arms, arms that could lift Charles and carry him without effort.

“How's this?” he asked.

“Kiss me again was the only answer Charles gave.

Hank leaned up and over Charles, brought their lips together, feather-light.

This time the angle was nearly perfect. Charles slid a hand into Hank's silky dark hair and held him close as his tongue lapped at Hank's lips and coaxed them open. Hank's eyes went wide and the irises darkened to midnight.

But after the kiss ended, things got awkward again. Charles didn't really know how to make his body respond, and while they found things that felt good, some of them really good, nothing came anywhere close to bringing him to orgasm.

He'd known his cock wasn't likely to respond, nor would he feel it if it did, but he'd been assured that orgasms were possible, that it just required experimentation to find his new erogenous zones. But so far the experiments were failing.

Hank was trying, enthusiastic once he'd gotten past his initial shyness, and it was good, just not anywhere close to fantastic.

“That's enough for now,” Charles decided. “Let me take care if you, then we can call it a night.”

“That's okay, Professor,” Hank demurred.

“It's not your fault we couldn't find anything that worked for me,” Charles averred quietly. “You really tried, and I can't see that it's fair for me to not reciprocate.”

“That's not it,” Hank said. “I'm dangerous if I lose control -- I'm so much stronger now, plus the fangs and claws -- and I don't want to hurt you accidentally.”

“What about a hand job? We can stop anytime, if you feel like you're going to lose it.”

Hank mulled that one over. “Okay.”

So Charles was at least able to give Hank a measure of release before he decided enough was too much. The experience had been frustrating for both of them. Still--

“In the finest scientific tradition, we have eliminated a number of non-viable permutations,” Charles announced, a smile spreading across his face. “Shall we continue our quest for answers that will satisfy us both? Tomorrow night?”

Hank beamed and nodded. “All right.”

So over the course of the next days and weeks and months, they continued their scientific explorations, and it didn't take long before the experiments began to yield positive results. Charles learned that orgasms were not beyond his reach, though reaching them required patience and creativity. And Hank learned how to tame the beast, and then how to let it out.

Neither saw any reason to cease their experimentation. It was all in the name of science, after all.


End file.
